I tell you I made nothing but losses out of my dealings with you, besides losing a year here on earth."
"Oh, you swindler you!" shouted the devil.
"I a swindler? No, you're a swindler yourself, you thief, you liar, you scab!"
And they began again to wrangle so violently that their words became quite unintelligible. They waved their arms, their skull-caps quivered, and they stood up on tip-toe like two cocks preparing to fight. The devil was the first to regain control of himself.
"But we don't yet know who has won the bet! It is true that the miller didn't take pity on you, but we haven't decided the other points yet. We haven't asked the people whether he opened a tavern or not."
"I have opened two!" the miller thought, scratching his head again. "Oh, why didn't I wait a year? Then Yankel would have been sent to the devil for good, but now something disagreeable may come of it."
He looked round at his mill. Couldn't he possibly slip away to the village by crawling behind it? But just as he was contemplating this move, the sound of muttering and of uncertain footsteps came to his ears from the wood. Yankel threw his bundle over his shoulder, and ran to the very sycamore tree where the miller was hiding. The miller hardly had time to slip behind a big willow
